


I’ll plant flowers...

by Mothmania



Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothmania/pseuds/Mothmania
Summary: When the Slytherin common rooms are subjected to a particularly damaging prank orchestrated by a pair of Griffindoors, Tom Riddle is forced to share a room with a very disorganized Ravenclaw.However, as the days go by, Tom discovers that he might get more use out of this nerd that he thought.
Relationships: Quirinus Quirrell/Tom Riddle, Quirinus Quirrell/Voldemort, Quirrell x Voldemort, Quirrelmort - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Don’t rain on my parade...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I’m trying to write this because I’m a moron and kinda sad rn. Um...I have a lot of ideas for this fic so I really hope I can finish it! Any comments of advice or criticism is appreciated! Thank you!

It was about three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. 

It had rained the night before, but not hard enough to drench the ground with puddles or cancel any Quidditch games, but just enough to leave glimmering dewdrops along the windows at Hogwarts. 

The air was groggy and thick. The kind that could literally  dampen anyone’s mood.

However, Tom Riddle would have easily rather rolled around in the wet mud surrounding the castle, than continue to listen to his Professor ramble on about herbology. 

Tom was sitting in the third row of the Slytherin seating area between the likes of one Beatrix Lestrange and a Yaxley...something. 

Tom couldn’t remember Yaxely’s last name and frankly, he didn’t much care.

At the moment, his mind was too busy fixating on a Ravenclaw boy in the second row below him, specifically his tie.

The ravenclaw looked down at himself and frowned before straightening his back and pulling the knot of his tie back up to his neck. 

Tom grinned, this was the third time the boy had gone to straighten his tie this lesson! Little did he know that Tom had been pulling it loose ever so slightly throughout the class with the use of his wand which he had hidden under his desk. 

What fun it was to watch the boy’s confusion. The tricky part was making sure he had a good hold on the tie in the first place, after that all he had to worry about was getting caught. How was any educated wizard supposed to help themselves? Especially one as bored as Tom Marvalo Riddle. 

How many minutes had passed since this professor began this ridiculous lesson? Herbology was boring enough when they were just  looking at plants, but at least then there was room for actually  _ doing  _ something. 

Watching as this skinny, gray bearded, weasel-y looking teacher went over the different types of gillyweed in his comically monotone voice as he read word for word from his textbook was almost tortuous.

Luckily, the Ravenclaw hadn’t caught on to what was happening and was still under the impression that he’d simply tied his tie wrong the last three times so at least Tom had something to keep himself busy. The Ravenclaw was also by himself in his section whereas most of the other students were huddled in bunches that could probably spot what was happening to someone next to them. But this kid was at least a body’s length away from another person. Obviously it wasn’t intentional, no one looked like they were avoiding him, but it was obvious he wasn’t on the top of anyone’s best friend list.

Tom squinted slightly at the boys face. He could only really see the right side of it, posed in a disinterested frown. No doubt his tie mysteriously slipping every so often was the most interesting thing that had happened to him all week. But still, Tom wasn’t entirely sure he could even begin to place this kid’s name.

He had a habit of ignoring people that weren’t in his immediate friend group, and even those two were sometimes only tolerable with a pair of earplugs handy. 

Tom glanced beside him. 

As usual, Bealatrix was leaning on her arm, only half focused on the lesson. Her eyes were lazily scrolling along the pages of her textbook while her mouth gnawed on the tip of her wand. Tom had half a mind to rip it out of her hands and scold her like a five year old. They’d known each other since they were both first years and  still she kept these disgusting habits. 

But most offensive were her clothes. She wore her tie like a scarf, loosely draped over her neck with the edges of its silk behind to collect dust. Her robe had tears at its bottoms, which was more annoying than stylish considering her family was rich enough to afford a dozen new ones. Not to mention, she always smelled like either expensive perfume, or cheap conditioner. 

She didn’t exactly smell bad or overpowering, but it was annoying as hell. Somehow it was just pretentious.

To his left, Yaxely sat with his arms folded over, pencil in his right hand, currently defacing his textbook.

Tom couldn’t see Yaxely’s book very clearly, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that said he wasn’t drawing another giant snake devouring the pictures of magical plants on it’s pages. 

Yaxley was nothing short of a mystery. Tom had once watched him get his hand stuck in a vending machine at hogsmede for over thirty minutes, and yet he was the same guy who had sent a student to the hospital wing after a particularly gruesome dueling lesson. 

In short, his friends had maybe three brains cells between them, and they were reserved for chaotic use only. 

Tom turned back to the Ravenclaw boy who now had his elbow on his desk and his head resting on his hand. 

_ Shit  _ Tom cursed to himself. 

The Ravenclaw moved.

Tom would have to completely revaluate his perspective of where the tie was currently hanging. One wrong move and he might rip off the kid’s jacket. 

He pictured the tie in his mind. 

Blue with silver stripes...

He made a small twirling motion under his desk with his wand, still keeping his mind on his vision.

After a moment, he felt a small pull. 

_Gotcha_.

It felt like a fishing rod tied down to his target. He could finally visualize the shape again. The small fold in the upper corner of the knot was as clear as the nose on his face. Now all he had to do was pull that knot up-

“Mr. Riddle?” 

Tom flinched. His hand still gripping his wand tightly as he sat up in his seat.

“Mr. Riddle,” Professor Root repeated, “if I’m not interrupting your daydream, would you mind reading the next paragraph for the class?”

Tom frowned as quiet laughter echoed through the classroom. 

_Prick_.  Tom thought to himself. 

There were eyes on him, he could feel it. Of course Tom liked attention, but only  good attention. Not these teasing smirks that stuck out on his classmates faces. 

He glanced at Bealatrix who was conveniently tapping the third paragraph of her left page. Her deep brown eyes darted to his and back to her textbook. 

Tom quickly found the paragraph in his own book and began the first sentence. He had to admit, as annoying as she was, Belatrix was useful.

“Er- snakeroot, also known as  _ dragontea _ ” Tom made sure to flaunt his use of the Latin tongue. 

For some reason, he had a talent for picking up languages. Although he hardly liked to speak to anyone in any of them. Except snakes. Snakes were good listeners. 

“Is an herb indigenous to Italy, commonly used during the fifteenth century to cure snake bites.” 

As he finished, his eyes met those of a student in the second row. That Ravenclaw boy...

He was staring at him, not intensely just...vaguely interested.

And how dare he?

Who was this kid to judge him on whether or not he was entirely focused on some boring herbology class?

Tom turned his head back to the Professor, he would not be shamed by a kid who couldn’t tell when his own tie was being charmed.

“S’that all?” Tom asked, keeping an emotionless glare on the Professor. 

“Yes that will do,” Mr. Root answered, clearly annoyed that Tom had read it correctly. 

“Alright...Mrs. Cross would you kindly read the next paragraph for us?” 

Before Mrs. Cross could begin her sentence, the classroom was hit with a shuddering rumble that caused Tom’s hand to jerk upward in surprise. The Ravenclaw boy yelped as his tie abruptly hit him in the face, which was only outdone by the various shouts from other students.

As the class filled with the chaotic yellings of students, each believing their concern or question was worth adding, Tom felt a cold hand grip his shoulder 

Belatrix was in top of him, her black nails digging into his robe.

“Oh this ought to be fun!” she giggled, a a black lipstick smeared grin crossing her lips.

Tom snorted. 

“Anything’s better than herbology...” he joked, letting go of the grip he had on the Ravenclaw’s tie.

Suddenly, as if the rumble had sensed the rising chaos, the sound of a thousand newspapers fluttering in the wind and the crash of another thousand windows echoed throughout the castle.

————————————————————-

  
Diricawls were very interesting birds...

For starters, they came in almost every hue known to wizard. Jolly, wobbling, feathered beasts all painted like drunken rainbows. More importantly however, they were known for their ability to teleport, and perhaps most importantly, if someone had somehow been able to set a bunch of them loose in say....the Slytherin common rooms, then it would be almost impossible to get rid of them. 

Especially not before bed, which was exactly why Tom Riddle was standing behind a herd of other Slytherins all searching for their temporary dorm room in the Ravenclaw hallways.

The prank, all be it an impressive one, had been set off by two Griffendoor students as “pay back” for beating them in a quidditch game.

Tom never had much care for sports and so the fact that he’d now have to share a room with some snobby Ravenclaw kid until the Slytherin rooms were clear again because of them was utterly ridiculous. Around him, dozens of other Slytherins were knocking on their assigned dorm rooms where’d they’d be invited in by whichever Ravenclaw student was unlucky enough to be paired with them.

Tom grumbled as he stepped over a Slytherin picking up his sack of clothing and school supplies that he’d foolishly dropped in the middle of the hallway. Unlike him, Tom took pride in organizing his materials. Double checking the zippers on his bag, triple checking the teacher had grabbed  all of his robes, and he wouldn’t be caught dead with his clothes unfolded. 

He also wouldn’t be dumb enough to roll his suitcase along the floor, instead he used two arms to cradle it as not to risk any collision.

Of course, he’d been assigned a room too far away from even Yaxely, who was one of the lucky few who for spacial reasons would get to stay with a Hufflepuff instead. Tom would have to walk  alone to the very end of the hallway where he couldn’t even run into his friend by accident. 

The note he’d been given was crudely drawn with a “2” that looked more like a “7”, but Tom could clearly see it read: “182”.

He made his way farther down, restraining himself from decking the boy who’d just ran into him after abruptly stopping for no reason.

Finally, he spotted the door, identical to every other one in this hallway except for it’s number. 

Tom sighed. 

Why couldn’t he be paired with a Hufflepuff? At least then he’d have someone he could boss around...Most Ravenclaws were so smug it was a wonder they didn’t trip from time to time after sitting on such a high horse. 

After setting his bag down and grabbing the handle, Tom gave the knob a turn and prepared himself to see whichever sap he’d be forced to live with.

With a low pitched  _ clnck-hnnn _ , the door slowly opened.

_Oh fuck me_. Tom thought to himself upon meeting a pair of familiar eyes. Of all the people to be paired with it had to be  that  Ravenclaw...


	2. The serpent and the...I dunno it’s like a fucking rat or something...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom finds himself face to face with a familiar Ravenclaw...*cue the outdated 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 vine.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is the second addition to this dumb story thing. Uh I think I changed how I spelled Quirrel’s name because I found out I was spelling it wrong so it probably looks lazy now and I might go back and fix it later...
> 
> Um...just found out this weird “double vision” eye shit I have might be unfixable and permanent...so that’s real fun.
> 
> But without further ado, please enjoy this garbage!

“Oh hey!” the boy in front of him greeted, sitting up from his desk, “come in!”

Tom had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

How desperate was this guy?

He took another step into the room. 

The curtains were a deep navy that matched the carpets and bedspreads of a single bunkbed.

Tom looked the boy over.

He had short brown hair, that was void of any gels, but certainly well kept. His tie was missing...probably thanks to Tom’s earlier meddling, but his gray sweater looked freshly ironed, as did his black pants. Most noticeable of all however, was his face which was practically giddy with excitement.

_Gross_.

“I’m Quirinis.” the boy introduced, outstretching his hand. He was shorter than Tom by a few inches, but he could have been ten feet tall and still looked completely harmless. “Or just Quirrel is fine.”

Tom took his hand slowly.

“Tom...” he said, careful not to return the same firmness this “Quirrel” kid had “What’s with the plants?”

He gestured to what looked like a small sanctuary of cacti, flowers, and ferns sitting atop the ledge of a nearby window. Some were simply pressed next to the glass, while others were strung from the ceiling on thin ropes. 

“Oh...um...I just think they’re nice...” Quirrel answered slowly, his smile suddenly unsure of itself, “...they...they aren’t a problem are they?”

They were in fact very much a problem, but Tom wasn’t about to embarrass himself. As much as he’d hate to admit it, the slytherin had pretty shitty allergies. He took a whiff of the air.

_ Yeah I’m fucked.  _ He thought to himself before setting his bag down. 

“Where’s my cot?” he asked, glancing around the room. 

“Oh I’m alone in here...” Quirrel started, “I thought you could just take the top bunk...if that’s okay.” 

Tom raised an eyebrow.

So he was stuck  alone with this guy? A guy who chose to sleep on the  bottom bunk? The least fun level of any bed? 

“Alright then...” he answered, taking his wand out of his pocket.

With a quick wave, his clothes were out of his bag, in midair, and neatly folding themselves in a line. 

“Oh you can put those in a dresser if you’d like.” Quirrel said calmly, “I emptied the bottom two drawers for you.” 

Tom glanced over at the dresser and gave his wand a slow flick, sending his clothing into the two cubbies. He was careful not to wrinkle them during the process. 

When he was finished he gave his wand another tilt and emptied the rest of his suitcase’s contents into the air around him. He stacked his textbooks one on the top of the other and placed them onto the tiny desk-like table at the headboard of his bed. 

Finally he lifted what looked like a large glass case no bigger than a bread box with a tiny forest inside into his arms 

“Hey where can I put this?” he asked, turning to Quirrel who looked far too intrigued by Tom’s performance.

His roommate blinked for a second before responding.

“Um...there’s probably room on the windowsill if I move a few of these...” said Quirrel making his way to his plant collection.

He took two large ferns in his arms and pushed a few small cactuses out of the way.

“Is that enough?” He asked before walking them back to his desk and setting down the two pots. 

It was peculiar to say the least...

Of course Tom didn’t use magic for  everything , but being able to effortlessly carrying two heavy plants instead of lug them around was just common sense. Either this kid was trying to prove something, or he was just a moron.

“Yeah that’ll do.” He replied. 

Regardless, Tom set his case onto the ledge and peered inside to check for his pet.

“Have you got a frog there or something?” Quirrel asked from behind him.

Tom shook his head.

“A snake actually.” he corrected, sticking his hand through the top flap. 

“Oh...” said Quirrel softly.

Tom let the snake curl around his fingertips before slowly lifting her out of the cage. He turned to face the Ravenclaw.

“Is  _ that  _ a problem?” he questioned trying not to sound too defensive.

Quirrel’s eyes got wide.

“Oh of course not! No...no...it’s just um...” he looked behind him “I’ve got a rat in the living in my bathroom so I guess we just need to keep them separate...” 

“Sure.” Tom agreed, not particularly caring wether some dirty rodent got swallowed whole or not.

Even if he wanted to give his roommate a heart attack, “Maggie” was too small a snake who couldn’t fit more than a grasshopper in her mouth. 

_ Nothing an enlargement charm couldn’t fix _ _._ Tom thought to himself.

He gave Maggie’s head another stroke along her blackish-silver scales and slipped her back into her habitat. He turned around to face his roommate again. 

“So...um,” Quirrel started, “I was thinking maybe we could...do our homework together or something...?”

Tom had to stop himself from laughing. 

What did this kid expect him to say?  _ Oh goody! Maybe after we can paint our nails and watch a movie! _

This wasn’t a fucking sleep over. This was a temporary living arrangement that would be  tolerated at best. 

“I finished all of mine already.” Tom lied. 

He still had some Herbology notes left to write and a quick paragraph on the history of werewolves for DATDA, but he could bullshit those before class started the next day. Besides, he’d rather get Fs on his homework then get close with some goody two-shoes Ravenclaw. 

Quirrell’s face sunk a little, but not enough to appear needy...just really desperate. 

“Oh...okay...um...,” he tried, “did you...want to talk or something? We should probably get to know each other if-“ 

Before Quirrel could finished his sentence, Tom had already swung himself up the ladder, and thrown himself on top of his bed. He landed comfortably on his back, leaning his arms behind his head like he was on a throne. 

“I was actually going to get some reading done.” He answered, summoning a book from his backpack. 

Quirrel stared at him for a second before quickly nodding.

“Okay...um...sorry I’ll be quiet...” he replied, taking a seat at his desk again. 

_Perfect_. Tom thought. 

Although this situation was subpar at best.

——————————————-

Tom wasn’t entirely sure where the night had gone, but when he looked up from his book for maybe the third time that evening, the pale sunlight casting out the window was gone. 

Oddly, Quirrel hadn’t seemed to notice either as he was still in his chair, now focused on a piece of parchment paper he’d managed to lift a few inches off his desk.

“Hey Quirrel?” Tom called, causing his roommate to jump slightly.

The boy turned to face him.

“Yes?” 

“It’s getting late isn’t it?” Tom asked.

Quirrel turned his attention to the window, his eyes grew wide as he noticed the clear change in time.

He apologized (like a baby) and quickly ran into the bathroom to change into his pajamas.

Tom rolled his eyes the moment Quirrel was out of the room and quickly summoned his own garments.

When he returned, the Ravenclaw was dressed in a black and white striped nightgown. 

Tom had to physically stop himself from laughing.

It fit nicely...Tom would give him that, but Jesus Christ he wasn’t aware he’d been paired with some grandpa with a time turner. 

Quirrel awkwardly apologized again and made his way to his lower bunk, obviously trying to be as quiet as possible.

The bed creaked with a low whine as he tucked himself in beneath the covers. 

“Is it okay if I read for a little bit?” Quirrel asked, his voice  still as annoying as ever. 

“Sure.” Tom answered quickly, hoping that would be the last of their conversations for the night. 

He didn’t hate this guy. That would take effort and frankly Tom was too tired to even dislike him, but still...there was something utterly dull about this Ravenclaw that he couldn’t tolerate. At least a snooty ravenclaw would have some “flavor”. Some sort of annoying quirk that made a random argument worthwhile, but this guy was just boring. A completely lack luster specimen of wizard who somehow seemed aware of how pathetic he was. 

With the lamps turned off, the only brightnessin the room was the pale light coming off the curtains, and the dim glow of the lumos spell Quirrel was currently using to read his book. 

Time passed again without any distinct markers of how much had gone by. 

Normally, Tom was out within a few minutes, but something about this situation made every little wrinkle in his blankets, every quiet flip of a page, and every ceaselessly bright light in this room grab his attention like a loose hippogriff in a lecture room.

He’d been facing the wall for maybe ten minutes when his body demanded he change sides again. He slowly turned, adjusting his eyes with the light coming off of Quirrell’s wand below him. Tom blinked as an outline began to come into focus.

Tolerating this guy might have been wistful thinking after all...

Somehow he hadn’t noticed it before, but Quirrell’s day-clothes were now lying on top of his dresser unfolded and probably smelling of whatever plants he had on the windowsill. 

“Hey Quirrel?” Tom whispered, keeping his eyes on the state of the dresser.

“Yes?” Quirrel replied, with the slightest hint of sleepiness in his tone.

“Why are those clothes on your dresser like that?”

The bedsheets below him shifted. 

“I...I just left them there for now...I’m going to put them away in the morning.” Responded Quirrel, “is...that okay?” 

Tom paused.

“Wh-...no...no that’s not okay...they need to be folded if you don’t want them to get wrinkles...or at least be put in a hamper.”

“I can iron them later...” 

“Is that before or after your dresser starts to smell like dirty clothes?” Tom accused. He didn’t mean to sound quiet as harsh as he did, but he was grumpy from this lack of sleep. 

The bed below him creaked.

“Look,“ Quirrel sighed, “I know that you probably aren’t so happy about having a roommate, but I’ve never had one before... so...so I feel like we should just get used to living with each other...if that’s okay...”

Tom blinked. 

For fucks sake, why didn’t this guy just break down and cry right here? Tom would have been fine getting yelled at and told to piss off and mind his own damn business, but this weird “sad/polite go fuck yourself” stuff? If Tom hadn’t been so tired, he would have jumped off his bed and smacked this guy.

Instead, he simply grumbled to himself and buried his face in his pillow. 

Great, at this point he’d probably be too tired to complain about not sleeping the next morning... 


End file.
